


Maganac Rites of Passage

by Omnicat



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: M/M, old fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 13:13:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5049937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omnicat/pseuds/Omnicat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Well, it’s not like they were <i>expecting</i> any privacy, right? Come on. On a <i>holiday?</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Maganac Rites of Passage

The Maganac were honourable people. The Maganac were honest people. The Maganac were loyal people. But their sense of privacy was, to say the least, a little skewed.

Their secluded little nation harboured a culture known for its bellydancers, hallucogenic kebab sauce, great number of artificial pregnancies for the sake of keeping the belly dancers’ bellies smooth, and the notion that unless one declared loudly and publicly that one wanted some privacy, one was okay with being walked in on by everyone and their dog.

Historians have been unable to determine whether this strange habit resulted from a strong sense of community and openness, an open minded outlook on nudity and sex (as also shown in the belly dancers), or sheer cussedness.

Given that the nature of privacy did not become truly appreciable until one had more... _pressing_ matters to keep private than embarrassing games with one’s little sister’s girl-dolls, and that the taboo on teenagers admitting great embarrassment to one another was ancient and well-hallowed, the Exposure and subsequent Explanatory Talk had become something of a rate of passage for young Maganacs. Unfortunately, circumstances of war and other assorted nastiness had prevented honorary Maganac Quatre Raberba Winner from becoming acquainted with this custom in one of the more harmless ways.

It was with much amusement, therefore, that Rashid Kurama, leader of the Maganac warriors, observed young Master Quatre’s attempts at securing some privacy for himself and his - gee, who would have thought - boyfriend, Trowa Barton.

Leaning on the edge of a roof-wall that overlooked a spacious courtyard, he raised an eyebrow. "And?"

Auda, standing cross-armed and grinning next to him, reported as faithfully as he would have in battle. "Khardan was the first to find them, sir, in Master Quatre’s private rooms."

"How far along were they?"

"Still dressed, but rather rumpled, with maybe five buttons undone between them and halfway through their air supply."

"Good. That should keep them on their toes. Anything else?"

"When I was spreading the word, Achmed told me he’d seen them together in the hangar as well, but was too busy to lay down his work to interrupt them."

"This was after their discovery by Khardan?"

"Yes sir."

"So they’re not deterred by one embarrassing accident. Excellent. Make sure Majid is stationed there from now on. He can sort bolts for a few days."

"Yes sir."

"Oh, look."

Rashid leaned a little further over the edge of the roof and pointed downward, toward a shadowed corner of the courtyard. Two relatively small, pale figures crept through the shadows along the wall, obviously trying to be stealthy. The one in shades of pastel nudged the one in jeans every so often and giggled, and the one in jeans seemed to sport a permanent grin.

"Young Master Trowa seems to be shirtless."

Auda snickered. "I think I know what that’s about. Zohra reported that his clothes are too warm for the season, and Master Quatre’s don’t fit him. Master Quatre must not have been very clear in his invitation."

"It’s a shame the Maganac Corps only allows men into its ranks, isn’t it?"

"Er, if you say so, sir."

"What do you think, should we make an exception for her once Amal retires?"

Auda crinkled his nose. "If you insist, sir. But I’d feel more comfortable if I didn’t have to be reminded that she’s actually a woman all the time, sir. That could get, uhm, distracting, when we’re out of town for a while."

"Which would be a problem with Zohra _how?_ "

"Just saying, sir, just saying. I’d hate to think what would happen to the men if she decided to scrub the car grease off her face."

"Hm. They seem to be headed for the vineyard. Do we have someone stationed there?"

"Zeid and Abdul should be down there this morning."

"Okay. That should be enough for now."

"Sir..." Auda hesitated. He remembered going through this himself as a boy, with a sweetheart whose name he had forgotten by now, but the sight of whose face (and the feel of whose buttocks) would forever remain etched in his memory with the flaming ink of embarrassment. He came from a large family, and Maganacs did not believe in locks on doors - heck, when you had curtains, who needed doors at all? But even with five brothers, three sisters and a hearing impaired old granny, he’d come off easy compared to what Quatre was going through. "Isn’t this a little... cruel? I mean, there’s _forty_ of us."

"Indeed there are." Rashid gave him a smile rife with malicious delight. "And we’re all Master Quatre’s family, so nothing we do is going against tradition. Not _really_."

The big man tapped the side of his nose and winked.

Looking shrewd was _not_ Rashid’s forte.

"Besides," he added, looking down to where the teenage lovebirds had passed. "War hero or not, Master Quatre is still at risk of brattiness due to his upbringing. A little ‘accidental’ humilia- er, humility, wouldn’t hurt."

Well... the boss had a point _there_. Auda decided it was a good thing Master Trowa seemed wholly unperturbed about being walked in on. Master Quatre would need some of that.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments on older fics will ALWAYS remain welcome.


End file.
